False Impression
by Mystery of the Emblem
Summary: Meg is thrilled to be in the same army as the man her father promised her to. Her efforts to follow him through a village market to spend time with him fail, as finding him speaking to another woman hurts her deeply. How could Zihark sneak off to meet someone else? He has to assure her things were not as they appeared, while reminding her they are not actually betrothed.


**This is an idea I've had for some time. Every now and then, I latch onto it, but it gets pushed aside for another idea. I actually like Meg, though I'm scared to use her in case she dies on me, and I can certainly see something like this happening, since she and her dad are just so sure she's going to marry Zihark. Madi is a character of mine I've used before, though I never really got a longer piece with her going and, since she's one I've used before, I just borrowed her for this instead of creating a new woman for it. I doubt Meg would be too jealous of a lady within the army, but someone she doesn't know? That might be a threat!**

* * *

The midday sun was high over Meg's head as the young woman peered around the crowded village market. She was sweating under her heavy armor, but she had a reason for being there and not training or even resting in the heat of the day. She had seen someone enter the market nearly a half hour before, so she had followed him. Despite being in the same army as him, they had hardly spent any time together, and that was not right. Her pa had said they would be married, so why would her betrothed avoid her?

She could hear the vendors calling out their wares, some even calling out towards her with terms like "girl" and "armored lass." She ignored them all as she tried to find just a glimpse of pale blue hair or the flutter of his jacket. She bit her lip and tried not to cry as she moved from her spot in the middle of the street.

For a moment, the crowd felt suffocating. Meg started to panic a little. Had she missed him? He was lithe and speedy, a trained mercenary who could easily slip away from Meg, who was weighed down by the heavy armor she wore. Should she return to camp? He might have made his own purchases and returned. There were so many people that she could have easily missed him unless he passed right in front of her.

But what if she had not missed him? What if he was still shopping? _'Oh,' _she thought suddenly, _'what if he's buying a gift for me?'_

If he was, she would spoil the surprise if she came across him! That would not be fair to either of them!

Her mind then switched to a more fearful thought. He could have gotten lost. If he could not find his way to camp, perhaps having gotten turned around in the busy village streets, would he need her help?

She shook her head a little to clear away the panic. She would spend a little more time trying to find him. After all, she wanted to learn as much as she could about her dear Zihark. Even shopping could be a lovely way to pass the time together and get to know each other better. Meg nodded to herself and squared her shoulders. She would stay until she find him, and she would not let the crowd make her nervous.

With a little more confidence, Meg began to walk through the market. She passed vendors with chickens that clucked at every passer-by. She passed dresses made of rough cotton and even a few made of what appeared to be soft silk. There were stalls with boots and gloves. One had swords, daggers, and even a small selection of tomes. Other vendors were cooking, and the smell of roasting meat was making her hungry. She could either sit to eat and wait to see who would pass her, or she could carry her food with her as she went. Either way, she decided she would purchase some food.

She had decided on roast pig when she thought she saw who she was looking for. "'Scuse me," she murmured to an elderly woman surrounded by four children. She pushed by them as gingerly as she could for her size and armor so she could get a clearer look. For one moment, she felt her heart skip a beat. There he was! Her Zihark stood close to one of the ends of the market rummaging through a small pouch he held. A short tree provided him a bit of shade. Meg laughed to herself and took three steps towards the mercenary.

Then she stopped just as suddenly as she began when she realized Zihark was not alone. A small squeak rose to her throat. Her cheeks burned a violent red as she felt tears well up in her eyes. A woman was with him, one she had never seen before. As she watched them, too stunned to move, Zihark shook his head at whatever the woman was saying, though he smiled for her. Her laughter did not carry across the market, but Meg knew she was laughing.

She found the strength to move again. Her footsteps were heavy as she stomped over to them, not caring who she might bump into along the way. A sshe drew near, Zihark looked up from his pouch and saw her. He looked to his companion and then back to Meg.

"Meg," he began as he looked away from her to secure his pouch on his waist, "how are you - "

Despite the heartbreak Meg was feeling, she tried her best to keep her voice steady. "Do you know how long I've been lookin' for you?" Zihark opened his mouth to reply, his gaze shifting to the woman beside him. Meg did not allow the mercenary to speak. "Pa told me you're a good man, but then I find you here with this - this - " She looked the other woman up and down. The woman was taller than she was, around Zihark's height. She wore a simple tunic and leggings, a silver sword at her hip. Her hair was pale, tied away from her face, and streaked with a dark blue color. She looked just as bewildered by Meg's approach as Zihark did. "This _loose woman!"_ Harsher terms crossed her mind, but her gentle upbringing only allow those two to pass her lips.

The woman bristled. "Excuse me?" she demanded. Her voice indicated a more proper upbringing than Meg's.

"You - you heard me! Runnin' around with someone else's betrothed!"

"Betrothed?" the woman asked as she turned from Meg to Zihark. "You did not tell me you were getting married."

"I'm not," he told her quickly. Then he addressed Meg. "Meg, Madi and I are friends, just as I am with you and your father. She and I have worked together before, and I was pleased to bump into her while I was buying a few things. She and I have not seen each other in some time, so we were catching up on what the other has been doing." He crossed his arms over his chest and added, "What you called her just now was unkind. You do not know her at all."

Just as Zihark expected, Meg only chose to listen to a few choice words that he spoke. "No nice, proper lady colors her hair like that!"

"What is this? Am I back home?" the woman Zihark called Madi asked under her breath. To Meg, she asked, "How many proper ladies have you actually met?"

Meg held herself as tall and proudly as she could. ""I've met and fought with some nice women who don't feel the need to flirt shamelessly with someone else's future husband!" It did not exactly answer the other woman's question, but she did not care. She was very pleased of the response she gave.

Zihark exchanged an exasperated look with Madi. _I am so sorry _he mouthed to her. He felt terrible for Meg, too. It was impossible to not notice her watery eyes, the way she kept biting her lip to keep it from trembling, and the fact that every time she spoke, her voice would break. "Meg, I want you to apologize. I don't think Brom would be too happy with what you said about Madi."

The mention of her father did not have the effect Zihark desired. He had hoped it would calm her down and she would think clearly. Instead, the young woman burst into tears and fled from the market.

With a sigh, Zihark apologized to Madi. "I should go catch her," he told her.

"Afraid of her father?" Madi asked, her tone playful.

Zihark chuckled and shook his head. "He'll probably cry harder than Meg. They're both lovely, kind people, I promise, but they are very open with their emotions." After a moment of awkward silence, he added, "It was nice to see you again."

Madi reached out and briefly clasped his hand. "I agree," she said. "Even if it was one of the strangest things I've ever had happen to me. The next time I see you, I want to hear everything about guarding that secret prince in the desert. It sounds so thrilling."

Zihark nodded in agreement. They had only been talking for a few minutes when Meg had joined them. The subject of what he had been doing led to him explaining that he and some companions had been protecting the heir to the throne of Daein. He had gotten no further in the tale, as Meg had spotted them at that time. "I will tell you everything, I promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

He hurried off in the direction Meg had fled. It was not hard to catch her. He found her sniffling and rubbing her eyes a short distance away from the market. No one was around. Her armor may have slowed her, or she might not have tried to run very far. She peered from behind her hands as she heard the mercenary approach. "Meg," he began quietly, "I am sorry I've done something to upset you, but it was not my intention. I saw a friend I had not seen in some time, and I wanted to speak to her."

"Is that _all _you did?" Meg asked between sniffles.

"Yes, and not for very long, either." Zihark wondered to himself if it would be a wise idea to invest in a few handkerchiefs now that he was going to be in the same army as Meg and her father. "You might like her, if you get the chance to know her," he added.

Meg had little interest in hearing such. "She's not... coming with us?" she asked with a huge sniffle. Her expression had become somewhat hopeful, even through the tears that streaked her face. She peered behind Zihark to make sure that this was the case.

"No, she has her own duties to attend."

"You pick me?" Meg squealed and pulled him into a hug so tight that he feared his ribs would crack. She pressed her face against his arm, smiling as she held onto him. "I'm so glad!"

Zihark tried to respond, but he found it difficult to breath or speak. Meg's grip was very firm. He did not mind that her tears soaked into his sleeve, but he did wish for her to release her grip. He was able to pat her back reassuringly. She pulled away from Zihark but held him at arm's length to look at him. Her face was red from crying but tears no longer fell. The young woman was nothing but smiles. "I can't _wait _to spend more time with you!" she squealed.

Zihark could only sigh. He allowed her to lead him back to their camp, his chest still aching from her hug. He could tell traveling in the same army as Meg and her father would be a very emotional journey, but at least he knew she could overcome heartbreak and hurt very quickly.


End file.
